Don't Think, Don't Even Think
by forbesfabulous
Summary: Bellarke?: something is killing everyone and it's surprisingly not Murphy.


**prompt:** expressthewolfieness: Bellamy / Clarke one? :)

**also prompt:** sylarsqueen:a world in which people only die when they think a particular thought, but no one knows what that thought is.

**a/n - **loads of people have been sending me requests for fanfiction on Instagram. So, here's me trying to shorten the list a bit.

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They thought the grounders were the worst challenge earth had for them. That was before they started overthinking themselves to death..._literally_.

Monty had gone first. He had looked into the fire and just dropped dead. Clarke examined the body but found no cause of death and she didn't have the proper equipment to check for poison so they wrote it off as another attempt of the grounders.

* * *

"Don't they have _anything_ else to do?" Bellamy collected new bullets from Raven. She had become somewhat of a confidant during their daily five minute meetings. "I'm sure they didn't just sit around making poisons for fun until we came." Raven chortled, fiddled with some sharp object, pretended that it's Clarke's eye she's stabbing (she's a little bitter, okay?). "Oh look mommy a falling rock, tell the queen we finally have people to use our endless supply of poison on." Bellamy impersonated a young child then left with a shake of his head and no goodbye (because they're not friends, not really).

Bellamy was done the second he saw his sister's hands willingly touch that earth scum. Heck, Bellamy was done the second he picked up his first broom. Janitor of the year, though. Then he killed someone. Or didn't. He wasn't entirely sure.

* * *

Everything seemed fine after that. Well, not fine exactly. There was the ever present terror looming over all of their heads of being the next poison victim. This lead to paranoia. This lead to hunger strikes.

When Julianna (some poor daughter of a electrician that nobody had really bothered to befriend) dropped dead, Bellamy threatened everyone that wasn't eating with his gun in hand.

* * *

"True leadership skills there, your highness." Clarke snorted. Bellamy scolded her with a look. She was the queen to his king after all— because of her knowledge of medicine and people skills, of course. No other reason. In fact, he'd rather have the throne to himself. He wonders if Murphy is sorry enough to be manipulated into building said throne out of shrapnel.

* * *

Then everything calmed down a bit.

Not for long, though.

Three people dropped dead in the course of five hours. This was not good. Bellamy tried to keep everyone from freaking out but even the people he trusted with guns (the _boys_ he trusted with guns, as Clarke likes to point out, he's not sure if she's insinuating that he's sexist or if she's insulting his choice in gunmen, but he doesn't really care—or he _shouldn't_ anyway) are on the verge of panic attacks.

"CALM DOWN." He said in his loud everybody-listen-to-me-because-I-have-authority-and-_you_-don't voice. "Clarke will figure something out." Jasper side-eyed him warily. He tightened his jaw and hoped.

.

"What do you mean it's not poison?" Raven crosses her arms over her chest.

"She means he didn't die from—"

"No, Lincoln, I know what it _means_—"

"Then why did you ask?"

"Why are you _here_?" Clarke lays a hand on Bellamy's shoulder to stop him whipping out his gun and causing even more trouble (she saw his hand twitching, she knows his tells — which is a little worrying if she's honest — but she hasn't taken the gun off of him because she trusts him which might just be the biggest mistake she's ever made) because it's not like they don't have enough already. Which may or may not be entirely her fault.

Raven bits her lip in anger when Finn's nose twitches as he glares at Bellamy's shoulder. Lincoln wishes he had just stayed at home (or that his heart hadn't pounded at the sight of the beautiful mysterious girl on the top of the flower covered hill, but then he doesn't _really_). Octavia clears her throat and grips her sort-of-boyfriend-sort-of-kidnapper's hand tighter. Jasper doesn't really know why he's here or when he will ever stop wanting to burst into tears (because he closes his eyes and pretends it's alright but it's never enough to keep the memories of laughing and joking with Monty out of his head, and he was perfectly content — or functioning, at least — with blaming the grounders, at least then he had someone _to_ blame).

"Look," Clarke puts on her crown. "We will get nowhere fighting each other. In fact, the only place we're going to end up is _dead_ if we don't cooperate. How can we expect to survive an entire army of trained killers — which, honestly, doesn't make sense at all because who did you even have to fight before we came — if we're all ready to kill each other?" Everyone nods and silently refrains on what Clarke had said. "Okay. So, I know I don't have any of the right equipment to test my theory but I am more than, uh, fifty per cent sure that it isn't poison killing us."

"Oh, fifty per cent? That's inspiring." Octavia raises both eyebrows mockingly. Clarke gives Bellamy a look who gives Octavia a look. Jasper makes whip noises. Lincoln doesn't like the way he smiles when Octavia laughs. Finn doesn't like the joke at all, and Raven doesn't like that he doesn't like it. Clarke is confused but carries on.

"_Anyway_, as I was discussing earlier with Lincoln, poison—"

"Oh, fun chats about poison, I'm jealous of your friendship." Finn sends Raven a scolding look which she doesn't think _she_ deserves (but at least he noticed her presence?).

"—has different kind of effects on people depending on the type used but all side effects are visible, or at least all the types the grounders have, anyway."

"So?" Octavia gestures for her to explain.

"_So_ nobody had any signs of— well, of anything!"

"Then what's killing everyone?" Silence fills the room.

Murphy appears in the doorway, breathing heavily from running (the boy had been through a lot, a lot that he might have deserved, but still). "Seven people dead."

Raven, Finn, Octavia, Jasper and Lincoln rush out to the camp. Bellamy stops in his tracks when he notices Clarke is standing in the small position, eyes cast to the floor. Bellamy sees the look on Clarke's face and realises he's not the only one done with life's bullshit. "Fuck?" He offers.

The queen sighs, nods, looks up and says; "fuck is accurate." He smiles and she smiles back.

Bellamy heads out the door, Clarke trails behind. She sees eleven bodies laying on the ground. Another girl drops onto the ground as everyone begins talking at the same time. Clarke can distantly hear Bellamy and Finn commanding everyone to stay calm. There are cries of anguish, cries of anger, people just crying. Clarke feels like doing that; _just crying_. She looks up to the stars where her traitorous mother is, then her eye catches the giant fire glowing in the middle of the camp. Looking at the flames, she thinks—

.


End file.
